Nerves
by Whole Lotta Sarah Tribbiani
Summary: Ron and Hermione's wedding: both the groom and the bride are nervous, but does the best man have any need to be? One-shot, written specifically for a competition.


I've said for ages I was never going to write fanfiction again. I'd grown out of it, I had no time for it, etc.

Well, I wrote this for a competition and had a lot of fun. There, I said it. Haha.

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><p>The sound of vomit hitting the pavement might have disgusted Harry more had he not heard it many times already throughout the night - once, even from himself. That had been when he had resolved to stick to Butterbeer for the rest of the night. Most of the rest of the party, however, had decided that periodically throwing up was more than worth it if they could keep playing drinking games with shots of Firewhiskey.<p>

Beside him, Ron straightened up and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

"All right, Harry?" he said brightly, "Ready to move on?"

Harry stared at him incredulously, "Wow. When I was sick outside that second pub -"

"Only just outside," Ron reminded him.

"_Only just _outside that second pub, then, it put me off Firewhiskey for life. How is it you can just bounce back like that?"

Ron shrugged, "I don't know how to describe it. I just feel like I could take on anything at the moment."

Harry smiled, "You're not nervous yet?"

"Nope. I know it's only hours away but I'm sure it's the best decision I've ever made. I'm actually _excited, _mate - is that weird?"

"Yeah," said Harry, grinning widely now, "It's mental. I'm months away from marrying Ginny and I get nervous whenever I think about it too hard."

"Really? You think I should be nervous?"

Harry hadn't meant for Ron to look so worried. He walked over to him to clap a hand onto his shoulder, "Don't be thick. I think it's brilliant. I mean, I _know_ I'm sure of myself but I wish I could _feel_ it more. Don't tell your sister," he said quickly, thankfully making Ron laugh again.

"This is bizarre," he said, "I'm usually the one who gets worked up when it comes to nerves. You're always so cool."

"Yeah, well," Harry said uncertainly, "Everyone has their moments."

The door of the Three Broomsticks opened and George stepped out, casting his gaze around the darkened street for a moment before spotting the two of them standing together beside Ron's pool of vomit. He grinned.

"We thought we'd lost you … are you coming in? Lee's just bought another round of those Fizzing Whizbee shots."

Ron groaned.

"Not _those_ again! They made my sick turn bright yellow!"

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><p>The following day dawned clear and bright, to everyone's delight. Harry could hardly have wished for more perfect weather - he would, of course, be wearing a suit, and had been growing increasingly worried about what might happen if he were rained on. Due to the presence of a great deal of Hermione's family, there was to be no magic allowed on that day whatsoever.<p>

"We're going to have a wizarding sort of thing later, though," Ron had said, when he and Hermione had first begun to plan their wedding, "I mean, I've lived my entire life with magic, haven't I? It'd be weird to have to avoid it completely when I get married."

Harry spent a few peaceful minutes staring out of the window of his room above the Three Broomsticks, knowing that before too long the hustle and bustle of the day would sweep him away and allow for very little freedom. He could see the castle in the distance, looking more welcoming and grand than ever against the azure sky. It was a shame, he thought, that half of the wedding guests would be unable to see it. He could not imagine the horizon without it …

A voice from behind him roused him from his reverie.

"Is it nice out there?"

"Yeah, gorgeous. They've got a great day for it."

Harry turned around to see Ginny sitting up in bed, an unnaturally cheeky grin stretched across her still slightly sleepy-looking face, "Do you think Ron lost it and drank some Felix Felicis to make sure everything went well?"

"I don't think so, you know … he seemed really confident last night. Surprisingly confident, in fact. You know what he can be like with his nerves. How was Hermione?"

"Oh, she was just like Hermione. She's excited, but you can tell she's really anxious about it all too. Fussing over whether the flowers for her corsage were going to arrive on time … I'm sure she'll be all right later."

"Speaking of later," said Harry, trying to shake himself more awake so that he could get in the right frame of mind for the day's events, "What time is it?"

"Half past nine."

"Well, we've done well to wake up so early considering we were both out last night … I need to meet Ron in half an hour, though, I'd better get ready."

Harry was surprised, but not quite shocked, to find his best friend throwing up noisily in his ensuite bathroom when he turned up in his suite. It might have been the copious amounts of alcohol that had rendered him ill the previous night, but Harry was now willing to bet that the very same alcohol had provided Ron with a fair amount of courage and certainty, too, which had now vanished along with whatever he had eaten for breakfast.

"You all right?" Harry called through to him, not so keen on the idea of going inside the bathroom if he could help it.

"Yeah," Ron gasped, emerging a few moments later, "Well, obviously I don't feel_ great,_ but I'm all right, I suppose. How are you?"

"That's not important - today's _your_ day. I'm your best man, you idiot, it doesn't matter how I feel. My job is to make sure everything goes right for you."

Ron sighed and sat down heavily on his bed.

"I hope it does," he said quietly, "I'm starting to think I should've brought a bottle of Felix Felicis. I'm not sure I'm up to doing this, Harry, I'm getting way too nervous. How would Hermione feel if she knew I was panicking about marrying her? I'd be really offended if she was feeling like this over the idea of marrying me!"

This new attitude, so different from the vibrant confidence Ron had shown earlier, was something Harry had been prepared for, though he would rather have done a whole round of Fizzing Whizbee shots on an empty stomach than told Ron he'd expected it. He sat down beside him and tried to look like he was thinking hard about what best to say to him.

"I'll tell you something, mate," he said seriously, "I'll bet you anything that right now, Ginny is telling Hermione all the same stuff I'm telling you. It doesn't matter how much you love each other, how prepared you are for the day, for the marriage, for all of that - it's still a massive thing. And as with any massive thing, you're bound to be pretty nervous about it. Everyone is. Do you not remember the wreck George was the night before he married Angelina?"

Ron's mouth twitched.

"It took five of us to hex him awake the next morning. He was almost late for his own wedding."

"But he made it, and they got married without a hitch and look at them now. Angelina's pregnant and George is really excited about the idea of having a child."

Ron's tiny smile grew a fraction, "Having a kid with Hermione would be brilliant."

Harry patted his shoulder heartily, "There you are, then. You know the plans for your life include Hermione, you just have to take this next major step and they can start - well, continue to unfold, should I say. You've already had years of knowing her."

"How many now?"

"Thirteen."

"Blimey! You came up with that quick - "

"It's in my best man speech," Harry said, "I worked it out."

Ron's smile vanished.

"You'd better not have written anything humiliating about me in that thing!" he said hoarsely, "I mean, most of my family will probably forgive me for a lot of the stuff I've done but Auntie Muriel's not dead yet - "

"I'm saying nothing about the speech," said Harry, "I'd like to think my best mate trusts me!"

They looked at each other for a rather long, strangely tense moment; then Ron's face broke into a grin.

"Yeah. All right. I trust you. Most of the stuff I've done involves you anyway, and I'm pretty sure you wouldn't want Ginny to find out what happened that night we saw the Cannons thrash the Tornadoes …"

Having been to several wizarding weddings, it was unusual to Harry to see a witch wearing an ordinary Muggle wedding dress. Hermione looked simply radiant as she made her way slowly down the aisle, a purple carpet running down the centre of a white Muggle marquee, on the arm of her father. Harry caught Ron's eye with a smile. He was glad to see his best friend smiling too, looking full of life and spirit as he watched Hermione approach them. She was also wearing an intricate headdress adorned with roses and her hair, as it often was for special occasions, was sleek and straight. Harry had to try not to laugh at the idea of Hermione sitting in front of a mirror with her mother, tackling her bushy hair with Muggle straightening irons.

He was sure, that if there had not been a rehearsal wedding the previous week, that Ron and most of the other wizards present would have been staring around the marquee looking baffled. The vicar was speaking vows that Harry recognised, not from previous weddings, but from the sort of soaps Aunt Petunia used to watch on television.

Even without the presence of magic, it was a beautiful ceremony. It made Harry smile to see a photographer with a bulky digital SLR camera snapping photographs of everything, picturing the photos that would be printed off with completely stationary subjects. After so much time spent looking at, and talking to, moving portraits, he had to think that there was some charm to stills.

But as the festivities drew on - as Ron and Hermione were married, to applause and much sobbing from the parents of the two of them, and they signed the register, and left the marquee to flurries of confetti so that the Muggles could re-arrange the interior for a dinner party, and had many, many more photographs taken outside, Harry found his mind becoming otherwise occupied. He barely even wondered whether Hogwarts would appear in the background of the photo that Mr Weasley was taking with Mr Granger's digital camera, or if Hagrid was managing to convince the woman he was talking to that he suffered a rare genetic condition that caused him to continue growing throughout his entire life, due to the increasing worry that was his best man's speech.

It wasn't often he had spoken to large groups of people. Early DA meetings sprang immediately and slightly painfully to mind, and he tried to remind himself that after a while he had grown more competent at instructing the class, only to have a shrewd little voice add that that was a completely different situation to today. Back then, there had been a goal that everyone had been heading towards, and it had been his job to guide them. Now, he was trying to do justice to two of the people he cared about most in the world, and if he did this badly it would be remembered for far longer than any garbled demonstration of the Impediment Jinx.

Ginny must have noticed something in the expression on Harry's face, for she hurried towards him, abandoning George and his recently-acquired Muggle camera.

"You look miserable considering you're at a wedding," she said, slipping her hand into his, "What's wrong?"

Harry moved so that his face was inches from his, hoping nobody else was paying them any attention.

"What did you think of my speech when I showed it to you?" he muttered.

He couldn't help but take offence when Ginny snorted with laughter.

"Is that it? You're scared of delivering the speech? Harry, you've done the most amazing things I've ever known anybody do. I'm sure you can pull this off, no problem."

Face burning slightly at the unexpected and strong compliment, Harry shook his head, "Ginny, this is nothing like anything I've ever done before. Honestly - Iwhat did you think of the speechI?"

She realised now that Harry was serious. Squeezing his hand, her face softened.

"I thought it was brilliant," she said, "Only you could've written about them like that, because only you know them both the same. I'm sure that even if Ron had a younger brother instead of me, he would still have chosen you to be his best man simply because your speech would have been so perfect."

Harry trusted that Ginny was being quite truthful. She was always upfront enough to tell him - tactfully, if necessary - if he was doing something wrong, or badly. It was one of the many qualities he admired in her.

"OK," he said, "But if it goes completely wrong, I'm blaming you for giving me biased feedback."

The food had been absolutely delicious, but it was now churning so much inside Harry's stomach that he was beginning to seriously regret his fourth piece of black forest gateau. Wondering vaguely if he would be excused from giving the speech if he was sick all over the elaborate white tablecloth, he stood up. How many pairs of eyes were there in the marquee? Every one was on him. He swallowed hard. Turning to his left, he glanced warily at his two friends, beaming up at him. He could not let them down. They trusted him. And they deserved a good speech, at the very least, after everything they had been through with him.

Harry cleared his throat.

"I remember the day Ron and Hermione met so well, because it was one of the greatest days of my life. Not for that reason, it was because I started Hogwarts! Truth be told - and I'm sure she won't mind me admitting this, because I think she already knows - neither me nor Ron were too fond of her that day. In fact, it wasn't for almost another two months that we actually became friends. And as anyone who knows them like me will also know, it took them almost six years to begin the relationship they share now. I'd heard the phrase 'you always tease the ones you like' but I'd never believed it - until I spent my time at Hogwarts in the company of these two! We all know now that all their bickering was, in fact, of the 'old-married-couple' variety, which I'm sure they will carry on with well into old age! But in those six years, they had the chance to iron out all of their differences, delve into each others' genuine personalities. They know each other better than any couple I've ever met - including myself and Ginny, even!" Harry paused to grin at Ginny, who laughed - he was immensely glad he had sought her permission to include that jibe when he'd first drafted the speech, "It was a big risk, taking a friendship like that to the next level, but they love each other and today itself is proof that that risk paid off. Not that either of them are strangers to risk-taking. I have the good fortune to know these two people near enough equally well, and I have the immensely fantastic fortune to have had them stand by me during the most difficult times of my life, through some of the most terrifying and testing situations anyone has ever faced. Without either one of them, it is unlikely I would be standing here talking to you all right now - which just makes today extra-special, for everyone, I'm sure. They deserve every bit of happiness that they're sure to have, and I know you will all join me now in raising a toast to my best friends in all the world, Ron and Hermione Weasley!"

"Ron and Hermione Weasley," everyone chorused, and drank from their champagne flutes. There was a moment of quiet as they did this, then as people began to clap the marquee was filled with noises of appreciation, so that Harry had to shout to make himself heard again.

"However!" he called, and the crowd was hushed almost instantly, curious as to what he was going to say next, "Although we are all here to celebrate their union, there are many people who aren't. People who I know would have loved to be here. One person in particular should be sitting right here - " he indicated George, who flushed slightly and glanced down at his empty plate, "But due to events that took place almost immediately after Ron and Hermione got together, he isn't. It is because of the bravery and sacrifice of people like him that we are able to freely celebrate days like today - days that revolve around love - without fear. Will you please raise your glasses once again, to Fred Weasley."

"Fred Weasley," the gathered people said, and this time the voices combined made a low rumble. It took slightly longer for the applause to break out this time, but when it did it was equally enthusiastic - Lee Jordan even lead a standing ovation.

"He'd be thrilled you're all giving him so much attention!" George bellowed; he was thumping the table and grinning at Harry, who could nonetheless see tears pouring from his eyes.

"Thank you, Harry," Ron said, and the cheering redoubled as he sat down to wrap his arms around Hermione, who was sobbing into her arms.

It was a while before Harry had the chance to talk to his two friends alone. He therefore spent the next half hour feeling anxious as he chatted to other guests and accepted thanks for his speech as people re-arranged the inside of the marquee for the party. He found his throat oddly constricted as he spoke to the rest of the Weasleys: Mrs Weasley threw herself into her arms and sobbed into his shoulder for almost a straight five minutes, wailing almost incomprehensibly about 'ickle Ronniekins' and 'a wonderful tribute'. Mr Weasley seemed unable to speak: he simply patted Harry on the shoulder, wiped his eyes underneath his glasses and steered his wife away to get a glass of champagne.

It was thankfully not long after this that he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Not bad, this Muggle booze, is it?" came Ron's voice, "Come on, mate, we're going outside."

He gratefully followed Ron and Hermione out of the marquee, where their only company was a relative of Hermione's, standing with a cigarette in his mouth.

"We wanted to thank you," Hermione said slightly breathlessly, "That speech was perfect."

"Dumbledore-worthy, almost," Ron added.

Harry felt his face burn - and, to his horror, his eyes too. He stared determinedly at the floor.

"No," he said quietly, "Dumbledore was much better at stuff like that than I'll ever be."

"He was the best," Ron said simply, "But you wrote that for our needs and it fit. You realise almost everyone in the place was crying their eyes out by the end? Even half of Hermione's family, and they don't know anything about what we've all been through."

Harry did not know how he was expected to react to this, or indeed how he himself wanted to react. He continued to look at the floor. He was almost glowing with this praise, but at the same time he wished that one of them would change the subject. It wasn't often he was complimented on his ability to evoke emotion in people, and wasn't sure if he liked the feeling much.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Hermione whispered.

He dared to look up, blinking hard, and saw that both Hermione and Ron were gazing up at the grand silhouette against the darkening, orange-tinged sky that was Hogwarts. Seizing the opportunity to wipe his eyes quickly on his sleeve, he nodded.

"I bet any Muggle would give their right arm to see this," he said.

He knew the castle would be empty at this time of year, but he was sure he could see tiny black figures on broomsticks in the area he knew was home to the Quidditch stadium. Ron seemed to know what Harry was thinking.

"This no-magic thing is bizarre, isn't it?"

Hermione sighed in what Harry was sure was amusement.

"Actually, I'm finding it really difficult as well. I can't believe it's all gone so well, though! I mean, there are loads of wizards here who haven't got a clue about how Muggles live - of course, there are also wizards here who are having the time of their lives."

"Yeah, Dad's found out more about electricity tonight than he ever has in his life before now," Ron snorted, "He was having a right laugh with the DJ when I left."

"Speaking of which - we'd better get inside in a minute! Ron, it's almost time for our first dance!"

"Cool," Harry grinned, "What song have you chosen for it? I don't think either of you have told me."

"It's a Muggle one, obviously," said Ron, "We wanted something significant to the wizards at the party too, though, and so Hermione suggested this old one from when she was a kid. It's all about how - well - how love conquers anything, really. After all, you said it yourself - love is the reason we're here today."

_"And_ the reason we're _still_ here," Hermione added quietly.

Harry nodded slowly, smiling at them both.

"But Hermione's _somehow_ - don't ask me how, she's just brilliant like that - managed to burn some of my family's old favourites onto a … compact disc? So when Bill gets drunk and requests _Do the Hippogriff_ later, the DJ knows that that's one of the 'novelty' ones the groom gave him, and won't ask questions about what the hell a hippogriff is!"

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><p>If I was submitting this to my Creative Writing tutor he would cross out most of the first half and write 'unnecessary preamble' all over it, but the reason I wrote this was partially because I thought the idea of Ron and Harry on a stag night (bachelor party) would be brilliant. The other reason was for that competition!<p>

Those of you who are interested, the Muggle love song I had in mind for their first dance was _The Power of Love_ by Frankie Goes to Hollywood. Because Hermione was born in 1979 it would've been out when she was five. _Do the Hippogriff_, of course, is by The Wyrd Sisters, and featured in the _Goblet of Fire_ film, and the lead singer is my current favourite music personality Jarvis Cocker!


End file.
